CHAPTER 13

The Rush of Doom The gigantic mass of the Golden Horn was a deceptive monster. From all quarters it formed an unerring guide to travellers on the trails. Its towering peak when touched by the sun was the admiration of all who beheld it. From a distance it often seemed like a fairy land, especially when sun and wavering clouds became entangled in a mesh of surpassing glory. But to veterans of the north, both Indians and whites, it was a demon to be feared when the snows of numerous winter storms lay thick upon i…